May 2012

Thursday, May 31, 2012

As we often do, my youngest son and I walked to school together one morning this week. Along the 15 minute walk, we decided to count the Japanese maple trees, newly-planted and adorning a long block. There were 27 trees, all saplings, all beautifully blooming and making quite an impression on us, the inadvertent passers-by.

When we reached the bottom of the hill, almost at the stoplight where I leave him in the hands of the crossing guard and allow him to walk the final block to school alone, he looked up at me and asked me what global warming was. I knew I had approximately one minute to answer this question, from the time of his question to the moment when the light would change and he would be shepherded across the street. So I did, succinctly and in age-appropriate terms for a fifth grader.

And then he was off to school, and I turned and walked back up the long hill to go to work.

For the past two years, this has been our special time together, this 15 minute walk. We don’t always do it (we’re a bit weather averse, to be honest) but we’ve done it often enough that it has made an impression on both of us. I really look forward to our walks – they’re a time to talk, to laugh, and to enjoy each other’s company. My youngest son is intellectually curious, so we often discuss interesting topics. And he’s sweet and fun, so we’re often laughing at a joke together, or he’s telling me how much he loves me, trying to convince me that he loves me more than I love him.

This is simply not possible, I tell him. It’s like that now-classic children’s book that was first published around the time my oldest child was born – “Guess How Much I Love You?”Big Nut Brown Hare and Little Nut Brown Hare get into a competition about who loves who more. It’s clear that Little Nut Brown Hare thinks he’s won at the end, when he tells Big Nut Brown Hare that he loves him all the way to the moon. But as Little Nut Brown Hare yawns and falls asleep, Big Nut Brown Hare assures him that he loves him all the way to the moon … and back.

That’s how I feel about my kids.And perhaps especially about this youngest -- my most cuddly, snuggly, loving of the three.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

I am going to be straight with you. This is a recycled post (with a few updates and edits.) But it's all I can manage as the last few weeks of the school year collide with a crush of work obligations, camp forms, summer vacation planning and the rest of life. And, the details aside, the end-of-school frenzy seems as relevant to me this year, as it did last.

This year, though, there are countless celebrations for not just one school-aged child, but two. Already, I've volunteered at K-2 Field Day, the all-second grade pizza-making party, and our after-care's cookout, and begged off a slot at the day-long kindergarten read-a-thon. (I do promise, however, to read a lot to my son this summer!) And there seem to be more parties, performances, special events and other activities than there are days left in the school year. (Nine, in case you're curious.)

The end-of-the-year insanity is challenging for working parents, and a lot of it seems manufactured, but there are some true upsides to the madness for parents and kids. Read on and see if your recongize your life in this post, and let me know how you handle the annual end-of-the-school-year frenzy.

* * *

It's June. The end of the school year. Which means that over the next eight days or so, my first-grader will attend the following events: the Daisy Girl Scout's mother-daughter ice cream social, a first grade "Beach Party," a "Budding Authors" celebration, an end-of-soccer-season ice cream celebration, and our after-care provider's splash party/BBQ. That's on top of a birthday party, camp orientation, and the bounty of end-of-the-year activities we've already checked off.

Most of these events require some sort of parental participation. Some call for purchasing and hauling food and/or supplies. Others involve extensive but unnecessary outfitting. (The packing list for the "Beach Party" includes "3 of your favorite books, a beach towel, a water bottle, a bathing suit (optional), and sunscreen" but cautions that "we won't be playing in the water.") Still others request the pleasure of my company. Often, but not always, smack in the middle of my work day.

Reading the article, I felt a stab of recognition. That's not too surprising, as Mahoney and I are part of the same school system and live in nearly identical communities. I was, however, startled by how rampant this end-of-year trend has become. At least, for the Motherlode demographic. As many readers pointed out, this end-of-year celebratory abundance is not a problem in poor, under-resourced schools. One teacher (comment #31) wrote: "I work at a low-income elementary school and my students have one year-end party - thrown and organized by me."

I was also struck by the number of readers who felt, strongly, that the plethora of parties and celebrations is, indeed, out of control. Many observed that the constant parade of events diminished the importance of true milestones. Some advocated limiting or skipping events, and even having their children miss them, too. A lot of working parents, mostly moms, decried the incursions on vacation and family time for totally trivial events. (Not for significant graduations or concerts, but for the "pancake breakfast because we finished our class book." See comment #52.) They (and many others, including stay-at-home moms) argued that parents should say "no thanks" and work with the schools (and other organizations) to scale back events.

But other readers promoted parental involvement, noting that the various occasions give parents and kids the opportunity to be part of the larger school community and create connections with each other. They pointed out how excited elementary school kids are to share their school life and their school environment with their parents. And how fleeting that impulse is!

I'm not sure what I think. My sympathies fall naturally with the working parents who rue the expectations and pressure of the end-of-year frenzy. A lot of it does seem pointless. I don't want to miss important meetings at work or blow all my leave on manufactured, meaningless parties. (As it is, I work a reduced schedule, so my work time is precious.)

Still, I've enjoyed getting to know the teachers, other parents, and kids at my daughter's school, at her after-care program, and on her soccer team. I know that my daughter truly appreciated the time I took off from work to chaperone the first grade's recent field trip to a local theater. And, let's face it: Do I really want my daughter to be the only motherless kid at the "mother-daughter" ice-cream social? (Fortunately, I was able to arrange my schedule and telworked.)

So far, I've improvised, choosing the events I do attend. I map out my work schedule, my husband's work schedule, and our other family committments to figure out coverage for worthy events. And, frankly, I miss some of them. Seems like a strategy that might work going forward although I'm concerned that the second kid entering kindgergarten will throw me off-balance. (Update: The second kid in elementary school didn't throw me off-balance, but I did need to point out that I couldn't run the kindergarten and second grade Valentine's Day parties at the same time.)

What do you think? Do you find the close of school activities excessive or celebratory? How do you handle the end-of-year frenzy?

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

It's fitting that this post was one I planned to write for the start of hurricane season - and it comes just days after we get our first tropical storm of the year hitting our coast! We tend to be a little complacent around here (Central Florida) when we start seeing the tracking maps hit the stores and the sales on batteries, radios, water and other supplies grace our favorite store shelves. Florida as a whole can go for several years without having an actual named storm make landfall, and for us here in Central Florida the risk seems even lower; even after getting hit with "Beryl" just this Memorial Day Weekend.

The reality is electronics are delicate things. Even if we just get some heavy rain (like we just had in my neighborhood) it can wreak havoc on un-protected systems. So, even though I can’t force you to be prepared for the overall scenario a natural disaster of any kind can bring, I can give you advice on what you can do to keep your equipment as safe as possible.

Monday, May 28, 2012

Several years ago, my mother and I took a one-day cooking class in Florence, Italy. It was predictably glorious and we made pasta, panna cotta and other classic Italian dishes after shopping in the open air markets.

I have never replicated the homemade pasta for a variety of reasons, including the fact that we -- and everyone else -- are trying to cut down on carbs. But mostly because I'm lazy and I live where I can buy really good fresh pasta, and really good dried pasta whenever I like.

The panna cotta was unbelievably delicious and I still have the printed out recipe somewhere, but I've never made that again either. I always know I can, but I hesitate to cook with heavy cream, which panna cotta is by (translated) definition, (there's that health consciousness again) and usually I just make something else for dessert.

The one thing I do make over and over again is something I serve as either an appetizer or dessert (great with a Muscatel or other dessert wine or aperitif) and is simply an unusual and extraordinary combination of flavors.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

The truth is I still haven't quite recovered my equilibrium from my daughter's bat mitzvah two weeks ago, and therefore haven't really had time to think about a Truth Thursday topic for this week.

But the other truth is that it's almost the first unofficial day of summer - the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, and I have a tradition for that day that harkens back to my life pre-family, pre-marriage, pre-me as I am today. It involves the now sadly defunct Life Cafe in New York City and two of my oldest and dearest friends in the world.

So here is a reprint of a post about this tradition from two years ago. May we all experiece a Life Cafe moment in the coming days of summer fun.

I've just gotten off the phone with Mona – my dear friend from high school, who still makes me laugh every time we speak. Many years ago, when Mona was first engaged to her now-husband, Patrick, he and I worked together in fundraising and marketing for a well-known dance company in New York.

One Friday afternoon, the day before Memorial Day, our office closed early and we spent a glorious afternoon sitting at an outdoor table at the Life Café in New York’s Alphabet City. At that time, Avenue B was still ridden with crack vials and wasn't even on the verge of becoming a hipster paradise. The Life Café was ahead of its time.

We were both 25. I was walking around with a giant question mark floating over my head – what did I want to do? Who did I want to be with? Where did I want to live? Patrick was antsy about his professional life and eager to blaze new trails.

I was excited because I had a date that evening that I was hoping would turn out to be the beginning of something big. Patrick and Mona also had great plans for the weekend. The sky was blue, anticipation was in the air, the food was delicious, and we felt sun struck by the idleness and sheer luxury of the afternoon.